The After
by SkyLight184
Summary: In a world robbed of its hero and rid of its villain, those left behind must deal with the triumphs and trials of day to day life. An outcast ex-lover, an overworked hermit, a follower fighting to make his own way, an alcoholic mother, and a war hardened father soon form bonds with each other to try and move forward with their lives. Rated for subject material.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Trying my hand at the HP world, please let me know what you think. This story is probably going to be a bit dark, but not too much. It focuses mainly on the aftermath of the Wizarding War had neither Harry nor Voldemort survived, and I like to think of it as more a coping story than anything. There will be romance, and of course drama, and maybe even a little bit of a glimpse into the new Hogwarts generation in later chapters. Just an idea I've been tossing around in my head for a little bit.  
I will address things like addiction and some mentions of self harm, so if those subjects are too heavy for you please don't flame me for it...

**Disclaimer**: I own none of the characters to be found in this story. J.K. Rowling created the Harry Potter universe and has all express rights of ownership.

**Summary: **In a world robbed of its hero and rid of its villain, those left behind must deal with the triumphs and trails of day to day life. An outcast ex-lover, an overworked hermit, a follower fighting to make his own way, an alcoholic mother, and a war hardened father soon form bonds with each other to try and move forward with their lives.

* * *

The rain beat a soft and steady pattern into the back of her head as she knelt in the damp grass, fresh dirt inches before her knees. A single rose was clutched in her fingertips, the pad of her thumb grazing repeatedly over a thorn. Salty tears mixed in with the few drops of rain that had started to dry on her face, her lower eyelashes valiantly attempting to keep the flood of saline at bay. The black veil that covered her eyes wavered in the gentle storm breeze, making her shiver as she stared down at the grave. The headstone was new, its light grey granite stained dark by the raindrops. Around her she could hear the whispers of people wondering why she was kneeling here, of all places, in this cemetery, by this grave in particular.

Hadn't she hated him?  
Hadn't they been sworn enemies for years?  
Hadn't he cursed at her, befouled her allegiance and threatened to end her life on more occasions than she could count?  
Hadn't he loved her as fiercely as he could, as well as he knew how, as any man would have dreamed to love another woman?

"Mummy, it's cold out. I want to go home!" The self-centered cry came from yards behind her, from beyond chill tainted blue lips that pouted up at the figure holding the small frame back.

"Mummy's busy right now darling. Let's go play a game near the car, shall we?" The tall figure bent to comfort the small thing. Wide emerald green eyes, glistening with confusion and discomfort, glanced a peek over at the woman still kneeling in the wet soil. Without a word the child nodded and allowed the caretaker to provide a welcome distraction.

"Damn you." The woman trembled, lips fumbling around the curse. She heaved in a raspy sigh, fighting the urge to scream, to fling herself in dramatics across the still fresh dirt that covered the casket in which her lover lay encased. She instead placed the rose ever so nicely across the scar in the earth and then lifted herself to her feet, a delicate gloved hand wiping neatly at the stray tear that had escaped its confines and was racing down her right cheek. "Damn you, Harry Potter."

Pansy Parkinson walked slowly back to the sleek black luxury car that idled on the asphalt path of the cemetery, pointedly ignoring the gawking stares as she gathered her son to her side before entering the vehicle.

* * *

Her work was impeccable, as always. Her neat handwriting lined each page until the very bottom, notes scribbled in careful matrices off to the sides in the margins. Piles upon piles of research was sorted into categories at her feet, surrounding her desk as she tapped her pen impatiently upon the paper where she was writing presently. Her tongue darted out, sliding across her top lip as she thought. Her eyes glanced up and over to her partner, narrowing the slightest bit before her head ducked and her hand flew across the paper, pen struggling to supply the ink as she furiously scribed. Her free hand flipped a few pages in the tome in the top left corner of her desk, one fingers underlining the words she needed to pull for her paper.

She paused for a moment in her work, one fingernail freezing beneath a name in the book. She let a hollow laugh pass from her lips, the pen falling from her writing hand as she covered her mouth to keep any further sounds from escaping. Her shoulders shook terribly, the hand on the book now lying flat against the page, fingertips trying to pet the thin sheaf of paper as she stared at the name.

"Harry." She breathed into her palm, now rocking back and forth as if to comfort herself. "Oh, Harry, Harry I'm so sorry." Her whispers had risen to a whimper, and her whimper to a hoarse apology, and her apology to minute scream, and her scream to full wails.

Hermione Granger allowed herself to be gathered into the arms of her partner, burying her face into the welcoming and warm chest he provided.

* * *

He stared at the raindrops as they battered the window, leaving small streak marks down the glass panes in individual races. He watched, mesmerized, from his high backed office chair. He pulled momentarily at the stiff uniform collar, mentally cursing the top button at the apex of his throat that kept the tunic so tightly fastened. The rain brought out all the memories and he knew he shouldn't be watching it, but he couldn't help it most of the time. It was calming to his soul, but not his mind. His mind had been racing, always trying to figure out what had done wrong or what he could have done to prevent the tragic outcome. It didn't feel like months. It felt like years.

"Auror Weasley." He turned in the chair, facing the young intern that had been assigned to him. The intern was a slim boy, maybe eighteen at best, fresh from Durmstrang. He had a hard face but curious eyes, eyes that were far too similar. "The Minister wishes to see you."

"I'll be right in." Ron Weasley shuffled a stack of paperwork on his desk and carefully touched the pair of rounded spectacles that sat in front of a framed photo from years previous, thin and childish arms slung over growing shoulders.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and his thirteen year old self all smiled up at him, and Ron couldn't suppress the smile back.

* * *

The joyous screams of delight grated on her ears as she lifted the glass of clear liquid to her mouth again. From behind sheer curtains she could watch the small forms run about in the garden, arms flailing with glee as they chased each other in circles. She closed her eyes against the high pitched noises and gripped the glass on the table with both hands, willing herself strength to not take another swallow. Moments passed and she sighed in defeat, knocking back two more gulps of the sweet burn. She exhaled a long breath and then finished off the glass, her eyes watery against the sting of the potent alcohol. Nimble fingers dug in her pocket for a treat, the candy slipping past her lips to disguise the distinct flavor of the drink before she opened the doors to the garden.

"Mummy! James is cheating again!" A mop of unruly black hair was pushed back by a tiny hand, the other small limb pulling at the hem of his mother's shirt with urgency.

"Am not!"

"Darlings, please." Ginny Potter put her hands out to stop the impending argument. "Let's go inside and have a rest. Mummy needs to start dinner."

The two small terrors raced into the house, still shrieking with delight as their game continued. Ginny brought her hands to her face, trying to block the image of her late husband's visage from her mind. As she turned and looked upon her sons, however, Harry's face floated in the back of her mind once more and her eyes lighted upon the small bottle hiding cleverly in plain sight.

* * *

The thunderheads were rolling heavily in the sky, covering his expansive property, He kept one hand buried deep in a silk lined pocket, his chin lifted slightly upwards as he examined the clouds above. His neck barely twitched when a rib wracking cough erupted from further inside the room. Heavy eyelids slid closed over storm cloud colored eyes, pale lashes falling on even paler cheeks. The pocketed hand balled into a firm fist, knuckles cracking as the coughing increased. Footsteps echoed from somewhere down the hall, large even ones and smaller hurried ones.

"Father?" A tiny voice interrupted the brief reverie from the sick coughing and the man by the window turned hallway round, a façade of indifference sliding across a bureaucratic face. A hand was extended, a silver and black ring glinting impressively in the crack of lightning that flashed outside the massive window.

Draco Malfoy drew his son to his side as the coughing resumed, his heart falling deeper inside the cavern of his chest as his wife struggled to live.

* * *

Please let me know what you think, leave me a review and I will update soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Wow, already a great response so far! To answer a couple of questions, both from **buttercup88**- Age-wise I picture them to be around 26/27. The timeline for the war will settle out in the next couple of chapters, but essentially it did not end at the Battle of Hogwarts and instead continued on for a few more years. It has been about six months since the end of the war. The next chapters will dig a little more into what each character has been going through individually and will help build that timeline.  
Also, I used another character that Rowling created, however this character was never given a last name, so I made one up for the story's sake.

* * *

"_I've got your back, mate." Harry clapped a firm hand on Ron's shoulder, both men grinning at each other, wands held tightly in their hands. Ron shifted around inside his uniform, trying to find a more comfortable resting place for the shoulder pads that protected most of his back. Harry slapped his shoulder again and Ron bolted out from behind their cover, wand flying in intricate hexes at the group of Death Eaters across the battlefield. Harry's footsteps echoed Ron's as the two men bounded around different obstacles, finally sliding to a stop behind a half disintegrated wall. Ron looked to Harry, the dark haired man smiling wildly. _

_ "You've gone mad, Harry." Ron gasped for breath and Harry just let out a short bark of laughter. "Absolutely bloody mad."_

_ "I think you're right." Harry laughed again and stood up suddenly, a fantastically aimed Bombarda blowing four Death Eaters into the air. Ron immediately followed with two Confringos and a last second Killing Curse as a Death Eater appeared to their right. Harry pushed hard on the red headed man's shoulder, forcing him to one knee and brandishing his wand in a flair, an eighth Death Eater dropping with a gurgled splutter. Silver gloved hands rose to the Death Eater's throat, rivers of blood gushing over the ghastly uniform. Ron shuddered and turned in time to see Harry rushing towards the front steps of Malfoy Manor._

_ "Harry!" _

_ "Harry!"_

_ "HARRY!"_

Ron sat upright in his bed, legs kicking wildly at the sheets that had tangled themselves around his limbs. He was shaking visibly, his hands unsteady as he fumbled to get the bedside light on. He swung his now free legs over the side of the mattress, his elbows finding his knees as his fingers tracked deep into his long red hair. Behind him a feminine sigh let him know that his company for the evening was not pleased with his decision to turn the light on. Delicate hands soon ghosted up and over his back, circling his shoulders. Black painted nails raked lightly over his bare chest, pulling carefully.

"Come back to bed darling, it's not even midnight." The smooth whisper in his left ear had him relaxing into the naked form pressed against his back. She laid a sweet kiss beneath his earlobe and he reached for the light, enveloping the room in darkness before rolling and pinning the woman between his body and the mattress.

* * *

"Sorry for waking you last night." Ron apologized as he began buttoning his uniform, the deep charcoal tunic fitted expertly to his form.

"No worries, love." Leanne Watkins flashed a pearly smile in his direction and crossed the room, clad in a long ruby robe. Her thin fingers made short work of his final button, weaving into his hair as she completed the task. "You'll be home for dinner this evening? I've got a wonderful roast planned."

"That's the idea." Ron pulled at his collar, already uncomfortable. "If Kingsley doesn't work me to death this afternoon, that is. I told you about yesterday, yeah?"

"The later hours and more interns? It just means he appreciated your work and knows you can handle the responsibility." Leanne laced up the mid-calf boots she enjoyed so much and stood with her hands on her hips, admiring her reflection. Ron studied the woman for a moment. She was barely shorter than he was with the boots on. Dark hair was pulled into a fashionable tousled bun at the nape of her long neck, a few strands perfectly plucked to swing over her bright almond eyes. All in all she was attractive, someone Ron would have normally been very excited to settle down with, but lately he had found himself wishing her hair to be slightly bushier, or her eyes a shade darker, or her laugh less abrasive.

"I think I might pop in later this week to see Hermione."

"Again?" Leanne eyed her boyfriend uneasily. "That'll be the fourth time this month."

"She doesn't get many visitors." Ron mumbled, sticking his wand in the holster at his waist. Leanne pursed her lips but said nothing else on the matter, picking up the beaded clutch on the counter as she walked to the front door of the apartment.

"Owl me if you run late then. I can reschedule dinner." She left a kiss, colder than usual, on his right cheek and drifted out the door. Ron waited until he heard the faint pop of Apparition before he allowed himself to cast a forlorn glance at the framed photo on the mantle in the living room.

* * *

"Auror Weasley to see Researcher Granger, if you please." Ron used his business tone with the diminutive witch at the front desk. She regarded him over the frames of her glasses, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline as she confirmed his identity. She slid a gold badge across the desk and he quickly clipped it to his breast pocket, heading straight for the Floo that would take him to Hermione's private offices. He threw a handful of powder in and stepped over the grate, not needing to state his destination. Seconds later he landed less than gracefully on the other side, one hand shooting out to catch himself on the wall of the Floo.

Across the office a head full of brown hair peeked out from behind stacks of paperwork.

"Ron!" Hermione beamed widely at him but stayed seated. He returned her smile and began walking towards her even as she bent back to the paper she was working on. "So lovely to see you. How is Leanne? I hope you two will forgive my utter rudeness the other week, I completely forgot about the reservation and I couldn't break away. Loads to get done around here. How's work, Ron? I bet you're all-"

"Hermione." Ron cut across her monologue in an exhausted sigh. She paused, blinking rapidly to hide her tears. "Hermione, this isn't healthy." He gestured to the paperwork that she had buried herself in. She swallowed thickly and shook her head. "It isn't and you know it. Please, Hermione, listen to me."

"I'm perfectly fine Ron." She said stubbornly. "Work has been an absolute disaster lately! Nothing seems to get done but I'm doing just fine, don't worry on me a single bit."

"Alright." Ron knew defeat when he met it and he let the woman win the impending argument. "Perhaps you can come round for dinner this weekend?"

"I would love to!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up from her paperwork to grin at him. "It's been so long since I've been out of the house, it would be lovely to have some company for once. I could bring a bottle of that wine Leanne is so keen on."

"Right." Ron gave her a tight smile and rubbed her shoulder for a moment. "I miss you, Hermione."

"I miss you too Ron."

"No, I…" He stopped, shaking his head. "I hope you'll come by this weekend. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Of course I will!" She set down her pen and stood quickly, wrapping him in a hug that lasted all of two milliseconds before she was seated and working again. "Thank you so much for stopping by, I've been meaning to get out of the office one of these days and see what you've been up to down in the Auror Department but I just can't seem to find the time."

"That's alright." Ron fought the nagging emotion building in the back of his throat. "I should get back. Kingsley has probably been asking after me."

"It was lovely to see you." Hermione closed a book and tossed it from the desk, opening another one without glancing up at Ron.

"See you around, Hermione." He bent to kiss her cheek and she turned away, oblivious to his intentions as she immersed herself in the textbook. Hurt flashed across his face and he withdrew from her, his hand slipping from her shoulder as he walked away.

* * *

Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Thanks for all the continued support! Please keep reviewing, it lets me know what you like!

* * *

Pansy smiled to herself as she watched her son frolic in the garden maze she had designed for him, his peals of childish laughter, bright and bubbly and sweet, echoing long over the high walled area. He was a force of nature, a young boy of only four with an astonishing magical ability that Pansy had never really envisioned for her offspring. She was a mediocre witch, decent at the basic spells and enchantments that she needed in her day to day life. The boy's father, however…

Pansy frowned and shook her head. It would do no good to dwell on the man that had left her, heavy in pregnancy and far too deep in love, because his wife was laden with their second child and he had suddenly had a change of heart about the marriage.

"Mummy!" Her son was racing towards her, eyes brimming with self-pride as he cradled something in his hands. "Mummy look! A bird!"

"A bird, darling?" Pansy leaned forward in her chair, his excitement as contagious as his smile. He carefully opened his cupped hands and the head of a small finch popped out, its frightened chirping frantic and continuous. "Give the bird to Mummy, yes? We'll take care of it together."

"Don't hurt him!"

"I won't, I promise." Pansy took the frail animal from her son and gestured with her head towards the small boy. Large footsteps approached the back of her chair. "Make sure his hands are properly cleaned, Charles, you know how easily he gets sick."

"Of course." The tall man stooped and took the boy by the elbow, coaxing him inside.

"But Mummy, the bird!"

"I'll be right in, Damian. I'm just going to make sure the bird finds his mummy too." Pansy smiled and the boy nodded, allowing Charles to escort him inside the large house. Pansy sighed and gently set the scared bird on the ground by her seat, resisting the urge to furiously wipe her hands against the fabric of her dress. Instead she watched the tiny creature hop around for a moment, admiring the way his wings fluttered as his chirps grew less incessant.

With a sigh she rose from her chair at last, her dress cascading in an elegant waterfall of silk to her ankles, the hem swishing around her stiletto clad feet as she walked towards the mansion. Her money had been salvaged from the war, her name only besmirched through her parents' association with Voldemort. Pansy had been fortunate enough to gain favor with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, especially after Draco Malfoy had come to her door begging her to follow his lead and defect. She had been a young girl then, just barely eighteen. She had still wanted so desperately to win Draco's affection at the time, blind to his clear infatuation with another young woman, that she had agreed and taken his hand. They had Apparated to Grimmauld Place that moment and Pansy had soon found herself surrounded by wands, threatening voices, and one questioning glance from the Boy Who Lived.

The double glass doors closed on their own behind her as she made her way down the long entry hall to the dining room, where she found her son and Charles setting the table for supper.

"Did the bird find his mummy?" Damian immediately asked, running to his mother's side. Pansy laughed and bent down, dropping a soft kiss into the boy's ebony hair.

"Yes he did. She was very happy to have him back in her nest." She ruffled his hair lovingly and looked at the dining room table. "Thank you Charles, we'll take the first course now." The man bowed and exited the room. "What did you want to do tomorrow, darling?"

"The zoo!" The boy exclaimed happily, his round cheeks alight with a smile. Pansy laughed to herself and nodded.

"I think that sounds delightful." She swept the boy's hair back from his forehead and kissed the soft skin there. Damian made a pleased gurgling sound that turned into laughter and stared up at his mother's face with shockingly clear green eyes.

* * *

Pansy slowly pulled the door to Damian's room closed, resting her forehead on the cool wood for a moment before she turned and began the short trek to her own bedroom. The balcony doors were open, as they usually were during the summer and fall months, and a gentle breeze was pushing and pulling the silver curtains around the doorframe. The sun had just set, the skyline still a stunning shade of crimson that made Pansy stop and stare. She stepped onto the balcony, her arms crossing around her middle as the soft wind chilled the air a little more. She looked out over the grounds, immaculately trimmed, and her attention soon turned to the figure approaching the front gates. Pansy strained to see exactly who it was at first, but as they passed through the gate she relaxed, Draco's signature breaking through her wards.

She greeted him at the front door, a black fur shawl wrapped around her shoulders to match the long black dress she wore.

"Honestly Pansy, it's been six months, you can stop mourning." Draco Malfoy drawled as he stepped over the threshold, eying her dress with disdain. "He wasn't even a real saint."

"You are always so pleasant, Draco, dearest." Pansy said with a tight lipped smile, accepting the formal peck to her cheek. Draco shrugged and the two walked in step towards the back of the mansion. "How is Astoria?"

"Dying, still." Draco's jaw tensed and Pansy reached over with one hand, patting her friend's arm sympathetically. "She refuses to even see Scorpius, you know. He hasn't seen his own mother in nearly a year."

"She's been through a lot, Draco."

"And I haven't?" Draco retorted angrily, his nostrils flaring just the slightest. Pansy stopped walking, opening the door to the back study. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and Pansy noticed for the first time how much older her closest friend seemed to appear.

"Tea?" She offered politely. He declined with a wave of his hand. "Whiskey, then?"

"Oh, fuck yes." Draco swore harshly, dropping onto the plush couch with a heavy sigh. "Scorpius has become a right handful, always running about and screaming. I didn't know a five year old could have so much damned energy."

"Damian isn't all that much better." Pansy chuckled and filled two tumblers with several shots of whiskey, handing one glass to Draco as she crossed the room. "Today he caught a bird with his bare hands. A bird, Draco, honestly. The boy is trying to give me a heart attack."

"Yes well, his father did a damn good job of setting the stage." Draco mumbled into his drink. Pansy shot him a menacing glare and the blond rolled his eyes. "I don't know how you stomached the prick, quite frankly, no less bore his spawn."

"I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't refer to my son as spawn." Pansy spat. Draco held up his hands.

"No offense meant, Pansy darling, but it is true. Damian's a terror."

"May I remind you that you're the one who begged me to come running in the middle of the night to seek refuge from this prick, as you insist on calling him?"

"Pansy, he couldn't bring himself to be seen with you in public." Draco stated dryly.

"Do you always come to my house just to insult me, or was there something else you needed?" She set the glass of whiskey down on the table beside her chair with a little more force than necessary and again Draco held up his hands in surrender.

"I came to ask a favor, actually." He took a quick swallow of whiskey. "Would you mind watching Scorp for me tomorrow? Astoria has another appointment with her Healers and I would rather not have him tag along for that spectacle."

"Of course." Pansy accepted the task and waited, knowing there was something else the blond man was wanting to ask.

"Pansy." Draco began slowly, drawing out the single vowel in her name. "Have you ever considered, in the future, explaining to Damian who his father was?" Pansy stared at him, struck dumb by the question. "How did you plan on going about that whole…subject?"

"I hadn't…I hadn't really given it much thought." She reached for the glass of whiskey, suddenly craving refuge from the difficult question.

"Because…" Draco sighed, swirling the amber liquid around in his tumbler. "Because if things go south with Astoria, as they probably will based on her current health and deteriorating condition, I would…I wouldn't want Scorpius to not have a mother figure, and, well, you're the closest thing to it at the moment, and.." His jaw clenched again and Pansy could almost hear his teeth grating together. She was unaware of the exact moment that the tears began to build in her eyes, but through the salty haze she watched Draco bury half of his face in one hand.

"Oh, Draco." Instantly she was at his side, arms winding around his shoulders as they shook with horribly contained sobs.

"I don't want her to die, Pansy." Draco whispered. "I can't raise him alone."

"I know." Pansy settled her chin on top of the man's head, rocking his entire body back and forth as she often did with her own son. He had thrown his arms around her midsection, his head cradled gently against her collarbone. She could feel the hot tears seeping through her dress onto her skin and knew her own tears were leaking into Draco's hair. "And you won't have to."

* * *

Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Thanks for all the reviews and follows! I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy this chapter too, it's a little heavy.

* * *

The faint glow coming from the end of the Healer's wand was red again. Draco stared at the tip, his heart taking another dive in his ribcage. The hand that clung to his was pale, nastily sick and weak. Astoria had always had a fair complexion, but lately it had taken on a purplish tone that was so often indicative of sickness.

"I'm afraid it's still getting worse, Mrs. Malfoy." The Healer delivered the somber news with a stony face. Draco felt Astoria's fingers flinch around his own.

"There's nothing else you can do?" Draco found himself asking, voice raspy and cracked and much too full of emotion. Her fingers closed on his again.

"Draco, please." Astoria sighed and seemed to nearly disappear into the layers of pillows she was propped up on. He looked at her, confused. She took another deep breath and fixed her cold eyes on him. Dead eyes, he noticed. Defeated. Hopeless.

"Tori." Her name fell from his mouth in a moan and he pressed her icy hand to his cheek. The Healer took her leave silently, clearly upset by the couple. "Tori, don't do this."

"I have no other choice, Draco. The illness eats at me every day. I ache, Draco, I ache so badly." Tears leaked from her eyes and ran deep rivulets across her hollow cheeks. He stared at her. When she had been healthy she had been a startling beauty. She had once had vivid blue eyes, clear as raindrops and as deep as the ocean. Now they were empty, soulless, and held no promises of years to come. "You have to let me go. Your magic cannot support me any longer."

"I can try Tori, if you let me." He was begging now, pleading on the edge of his chair as he gripped her thin hand in both of his. "Tori please. Think of Scorpius."

"I am!" She thundered suddenly with a strength he did not know she possessed. "I am, I think of him always. Of how I want him to live happily, not burdened by me. Of how I want him to be raised, in a healthy home, with a father I know loves him. I want him to not remember me, Draco, if that's what it takes for him to live and be happy! He cannot know me like this. I cannot put that child through this!" She was visibly shaking now, her slim frame trembling with emotion and illness and a sense of determination that Draco had not seen from her in years. "I have been dying for three years, Draco. It is time to let me go."

"Tori, no." Draco whimpered his protest against deaf ears. She pulled her hand from his and turned her head away, her chest heaving with sobs. He could feel her thin magic pushing at his within his bones, her final attempt to sever herself from him. With a choked cry, he slowly pulled the platinum wedding band from his left ring finger, unable to see exactly where on the small table he set it through the onslaught of tears that coursed wildly down his face. Blindly he reached for her hand again, fingers weaving through hers for what he was sure to be the last time.

"Thank you, my love." She whispered into the pillow, ragged breaths filling the room. Her magic was fading from him. He could feel the last tendrils of her life pulling themselves from the connection they had shared as husband and wife for the last seven years and he clung desperately to her hand, as if that could possibly convince her to change her mind.

The bright diamond on her left hand turned dull in the light as Astoria Malfoy let loose her last breath, her husband sinking to the floor with a howl of misery.

* * *

"Master Malfoy." The house elf at the front entrance to the mansion bowed low at Draco's feet. Draco barely acknowledged the small creature, pausing as soon as he crossed the threshold. The elf straightened slowly, staring up at his master with too round eyes. "You return alone, Master Malfoy."

"Yes." Draco said thickly, his throat clenching with sorrow. "Draw the curtains. I want no sunlight. Close the master bedroom and seal it with your magic."

"The Mistress Malfoy…"

"Draw the curtains. Now." Draco repeated, his footsteps echoing for ages on the marble floor. The small elf snapped his thin fingers and immediately the mansion went shades darker, all natural light effectively shut out as thick curtains were pulled closed over the windows. Draco wandered aimlessly down the main hall, his hand trailing on one wall as it often had in his childhood whenever he trekked through his old Manor.

This had been the new Malfoy Manor, one that he had proudly designed and built with his own mind and his own money. For years he had been squirreling away a good portion of the hefty allowance his father had bestowed upon him. He had still spent a decent sum on Quidditch supplies and nonsense junk that proved useless in the end, but he had saved a small fortune in the end and used it to pay for the start of the new mansion. It didn't hold a candle to the old Malfoy Manor, but it was his. He had created every niche and he knew every last detail of the design.

It had been Astoria's dream home, one that she had decorated with an imagination that Draco severely lacked and a flair that many women envied. Her touches were everywhere in the mansion, from the frilly tasseled couch cushions to the exact shade of eucalyptus green in her private study to the perfectly arranged windowpanes in Draco's library.

Now, running his hand across the wall in the longest passage of the Manor, he felt how cold the home had become. In the few short hours between Astoria's death and his return to the mansion, the house had changed. The air seemed thicker, the walls seemed closer, and the sense of welcome was sucked out of the entire structure. Her essence was gone.

Draco let his hand drop back to his side as he stood at the entrance to Astoria's little study. Tears once again filled his eyes when he took the first step into the room, her scent assaulting his nose when he picked up the blanket she had been fond of during rainstorms.

_"Come sit with me, love." Astoria patted the cushion beside her, the lavender blanket draped around her pretty shoulders as she beamed at her husband. Her stomach, once perfectly flat and toned, was well swollen in pregnancy. Draco sat to her left on the couch, instantly scooping her up and depositing her across his lap as the thunder rolled in the distance._

His fingers brushed over the intricate fountain pen she had insisted on buying for him one Christmas, only for it to wind up on her desk by the New Year. He picked it up, twirling it between his fingers in an imitation of the way Astoria had always made the pen dance through her nimble hands.

_"I thought that was my pen." Draco smiled at his wife as he leaned in the doorway to her study, watching as she tumbled the pen through her fingers gracefully. She looked up from the letter she was writing, no doubt to her sister, and laughed prettily. _

_ "It was, until I decided it fits with my décor much better than yours." She put the pen on the desk and folded her hands beneath her chin, batting her eyelashes at him with a coy grin. _

_ "Is that an insult to the one room I decorated or a hint at your shopping failure?"_

He sank into the chair behind the desk, his ears betraying him as her laugh replayed in his head. He was still crying, although he could have sworn he made himself stop minutes ago, and the blanket was still clutched in his left hand as he held the pen in his right. The room was so entirely Astoria that it was overwhelming, but he didn't want to leave. He let the pen rest back in its stand and then reached into his pocket, withdrawing the diamond engagement ring and platinum wedding band Astoria had once worn. He held the jewelry in his palm for a moment and then set both items on the desk, pushing them around with his fingertips for a second or two.

Behind him lightning flashed wildly through the thick curtains, thunder rumbling deep in the distance, and he subconsciously drew the blanket up and over one shoulder.

* * *

Draco woke to fingers running soothing tracks through his hair and for moment his heart leapt into his throat, sure that it was Astoria. He opened his eyes and looked up, meeting the sad face of Pansy as she sat on the edge of the desk. Without a single word he let the blanket fall from his shoulders and he leaned forward, his head finding her lap easily as she bent her forehead to his cheek and kissed the place of his face. She continued stroking his hair while her tears fell hot and thick onto his skin, his own sorrow once again seeping through the dress she wore.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry." Her apology was one he should have waved off, but he found it comforting and allowed himself to reached up and claw at her leg, desperate to express through physical means how much he hurt. Pansy winced when his fingertips dug into her thigh but said nothing, barely flinching when his nails raked painfully over her dress. She did nothing but soothe him as his quiet tears turned to hitching breaths between sobs and then finally guttural wails of pain and loss and emptiness. For what seemed like hours she sat on the edge of the desk, holding his head in her lap while he held on to her leg like it was the only keeping him alive. At long last he calmed down, reduced to the occasional cough or quick sniffle.

"I asked her not to go yet." Draco admitted, his voice scratchy from his emotional outburst. "How selfish am I, that I would ask my wife, who has…who had been through so much pain, that I would ask her not to die because of how afraid I am to live without her?"

Draco reached down into his lap and balled one of the blanket in his fist, bringing it to his face so he could breathe in the sweet smell of his late wife one more time.

* * *

Please let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Sorry for the wait! I was away from good connectivity due to my job for a couple of weeks but I'm back on the shore now, so I should be updating regularly until I go out again next month. Thank you all for the reviews, follows, and PMs! Enjoy!

* * *

The pounding in her head intensified as she opened an eye and began looking around her bedroom. The light was filtering in from an open window, causing her already aching brain to throb against her skull even more. She groaned and rolled over, her arm colliding with a cold glass object. Both eyes opened as she stared down at the empty bottle. The previous evening it had been full and the guilt settled in over her shoulders as she quickly stashed the container in the trash bin by the door. She grabbed her robe and shoved her feet into the warm slippers she was overly fond of before reaching for the bedroom door.

It was then Ginny Potter caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were absurdly pronounced, as if she hadn't slept properly in years. Her hair, once a bright and fiery red (a "halo of flames", Harry had called it at their wedding when it was done up nicely) now hung in dull columns over her shoulders. Her eyes had lost their spunk, now bored and indifferent and always searching, seeking out that next end to the craving. Already her hands were shaking and her throat had gone dry. She sighed and wiped a hand over the reflection in the mirror, turning from the room and moving downstairs to the kitchen. James and Albus had luckily inherited their father's talent for sleeping through anything short of the end of the world, so her mumbled swears and not so light footsteps were of no consequence.

Ginny watched the tea seep into the hot water, the clear liquid stained brown as she waited for it to reach the perfect ratio of water to tea. A couple of spoonfuls of sugar were unceremoniously dumped into the cup, followed by a quarter slice of lemon. She then lifted the cup to her lips and inhaled.

"Make me a cup, will you?" Ron popped into the kitchen suddenly, startling Ginny enough so that her tea splattered down the front of her bathrobe.

"Goddamnit Ronald!" She swore angrily, mopping at herself with the towel hanging from the stovetop. "You're a right prick."

"Morning to you too, beloved sister."

"I'm your only sister." She grumbled, lifting her cheek as he bent to peck the freckled skin.

"Christ Gin, you look like hell." Ron said as he rocked back on his heels. Ginny grunted and set about making herself another cup of tea, begrudgingly pouring another one out for her brother.

"Two boys will do that to a woman." Ginny sighed as she scooped out the proper amounts of sugar for each cup. Ron looked around from his seat at the table to double check. "Four flat scoops and an extra pinch off the lip, I've got it."

"Just making sure." Ron smiled when she handed him his cup and clinked the rim of his mug against hers, the siblings sipping in quiet for a couple of minutes. "I saw Hermione yesterday."

"Does Leanne know you've seen her every day since the funeral?"

"No." Ron fiddled with the edge of the place setting before him. He twisted a finger around in the steam rising from his cup, avoiding his sister's level stare. "To be frank I don't think Leanne and I are a good match."

"Hermione's not the same, Ron." Ginny observed when her brother winced, as if physically blown by her words. "She's changed. I fear she may have gone off the deep end."

"Easy there, pot." Ron warned, his eyes flickering to the blue glass bottle hiding behind a few decorative vases on the shelf across the kitchen. Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"It's just a few stiff sips here and there Ron, not the end of the world." She waved her hand dismissively and finished off her tea. "The boys will be up any second, unless you'd rather do the honors?"

"I think I will." Ron handed her the empty mug and then bounded towards the stairs, clearly excited for his job as an uncle. Ginny flicked her wrist at the sink and the mugs immersed themselves in soapy water, clinking lightly as her magic cleaned them. She took the steps back to her room slowly as shrieks and giggles drifted down from her sons' rooms, Ron's animated antics clearly pleasing for the children.

She came face to face with the mirror again, her fingers rubbing at her tired flesh as she sat at the vanity. Minutes later her hair shone brightly, fixed with a charm and a styling spell. Her skin looked flawless, the purple bags hidden beneath expert layers of cosmetic enchantments. She looked back at the mirror and began her morning mantra.

"I am Harry Potter's wife. I am mother to James and Albus. I do not need any one's help. I have survived. I can make it on my own." Ginny watched as her reflection moved just as she did.

The belief had faded from her weeks ago.

* * *

Ginny held back the small hiccup as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her vision swaying while she reached for the tall glass in front of her. She finally caught hold of it, swirling the liquid inside before knocking back the remaining mouthful. It burned, oh heavens above it burned so badly, but at least she could focus on the burning hurt in her throat and not the hurt in her chest whenever she looked at her boys. She let the hiccup slide from between her lips this time, her shoulders jerking with the involuntary action. She took a deep breath and collected herself, shaking her head before she refilled her glass from the blue bottle she kept on that shelf. Harry had called it her secret shelf.

Oh, Harry.

Ginny clutched the glass in both hands and lifted it to her lips, the smallest of sips sneaking in between her lips. It burned again and she screwed her face up in protest.

"Mummy!" Instantly she gathered her wits and turned on the spot, beaming brightly at her oldest son as he burst into the kitchen. "You promised we could go out today!"

"Did I?" Ginny honestly couldn't remember if she had, but then again she had woken up with a bottle in bed with her. "Well where did you want to go?"

"See the animals!" Albus' tiny shriek filled the kitchen and Ginny barely withheld her laughter. He was a riot, her youngest, and he reminded her so much of Harry that it- no, not now. She ground her teeth against the flood of warm memories that assaulted her mind.

"To see the animals? But we went to the zoo last week, didn't we Albus?" Ginny asked as she bent over to address the boy. He puffed out his cheeks and pouted.

"I want to go to the theater." James announced. "And last week we did what Al wanted! It's my turn!"

"But the animals!"

"James is right, Albus, it's only fair." Ginny reached up to grab on to the table for support as her world took a wild spin while standing, the alcohol rushing through her body. "Go…go get your coats." She blinked hard against the warm flush that spread across her cheeks.

Ginny missed the way James looked back and forth between his mother and the blue bottle she now held in her hand.

* * *

Ginny found herself becoming increasingly impatient with the young boy behind the glass at the theater, her craving grower stronger by the second. Her hands were busy, each holding a hand of her sons at her sides. The boys had been perfect little angels for the whole trip, despite being stopped several times by passersby who wanted to gawk at the famed children of the late Harry Potter.

"Bless each of you."

"Your father was an amazing man!"

"You must know how proud the world is of your father."

Ginny had tired of the praise and wonder of the people around her family long ago, most of the time turning a blind eye and ear to the stares and whispers that followed her wherever she went. Even now, as she stood in line to buy tickets for the theater like any normal person, she knew there were a few witches and wizards

"Mummy, I want to see the animals." Albus said suddenly, tugging at her hand. Ginny faced her youngest, smiling gently.

"We saw them last week, dearest. It's James' turn to pick."

"I changed my mind." James piped up as the line. "This is taking forever!"

"It's barely been ten minutes James." Ginny had to start repeating her mantra in her head as her patience grew thinner. "You said just this morning you wanted to go to the theater."

"No, I want to go see the animals!" James replied adamantly. Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and let out a long breath, her teeth clenched tightly.

"The animals, Mummy!" Albus giggled from her right side, bouncing with energy.

"Very well, the animals." She caved to their requests and for the fourth time in four weeks, she removed them from the line at the theater and began heading for a safe Apparition point. She took the boys down a shaded alleyway, in between a haute couture boutique and an antique shop, and started reciting her Apparition directions to the children.

As she wrapped the scarf a little tighter around James' neck, a soft pop behind her had her glancing around her left shoulder. Ginny found herself staring at someone she hadn't seen in years.

"Ginevra." Pansy Parkinson's face was flooded with sudden color, as if embarrassed, while she addressed Ginny.

"Pansy." Ginny nodded her head and finished tying James' scarf with a sharp tug. Pansy turned quickly and began to exit the alleyway, and Ginny finally noticed the children at the other woman's side.

Brilliant silver and familiar emerald eyes remained glued on the small Potter family as Pansy all but dragged the children from the alleyway.

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Please let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **This wraps up the introductory chapters and gets everyone a little more set up. Next round will be backstories (how Pansy and Harry got together, Ron and Harry's last assignment, etc etc). Thanks again for the reviews, follows, and favorites! I appreciate it.

* * *

The ticking clock behind her head just made her already impeccable work even more precise. The ominous yet aggravating sound reminded her that time, no matter what, kept going. Time would never stop. And if time refused to rest, then so would she.

Her hand flew across the page while she wrote as fast as she possibly could. If she could just get this report finished, then she could start on the research for the missing Time Turners. And after those, she could begin digging into the mystery surrounding the disappearance of several Azkaban guards. They had assigned her the most difficult cases and her partner was a true godsend sometimes, but that infernal clock was a constant reminder that no matter what, no matter how many files she looked through or essays she wrote, time was still ticking on.

"Found some more on the deviations of the root study." Her partner handed her a thick sheaf of paper and she took it without glancing up. "It's nearly six. I'm heading home shortly. You should get some rest, Granger."

"Right." Hermione Granger nodded, but never lifted her hand or head from her work. Her partner sighed and reached between her nose and the book she was currently perusing.

"Hermione." She looked up then, into the concerned face of the man that had worked in this room with her for nearly nine months. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Thursday." She replied instantly. Her partner frowned. "No, damn, it's Wednesday, isn't it?"

"You need to go home." He grabbed her arm, removing her from the chair.

"But my work, Grant, I'm nearly done, please just let me finish!" A hand drifted back towards her desk in a needy gesture but her partner, Grant, was much stronger and easily able to continue pulling her towards the door. His hand squeezed hard around her arm one time and she gasped in pain. "That hurt!"

"Sorry." He released her arm suddenly and shook his head, moving back towards his desk. She turned around instantly and sat at her chair, diving once more into her work. Within minutes, Hermione had slumped over onto the book she was reading, the sedative her partner had injected in her arm clearly doing its work.

Across the room Grant logged the date, time, and dosage in the journal he was required to keep by the Minister before sending a quick copy up to the higher offices. He then cleaned his desk, put on his coat, and walked back to Hermione's desk. His hand landed on her shoulder and the duo Apparated with a quiet pop.

* * *

Hermione stretched her arms over her head as she yawned herself awake, her back cracking as she twisted in the sheets. She blinked a few times against the brightness in her room, relaxing for a second in the softness of her pillows before she leapt out of bed, cursing under her breath as she threw on her clothes for work. Within minutes she had dressed, eaten a whirlwind breakfast, and Flooed to work.

"Sorry I'm late!" She threw her coat around the back of her seat as she offered an apologetic smile to Grant. He just nodded and walked a thick stack of papers to her. "How much research have we got to get done today?"

"The Minister wants roughly ten pages before we can begin on the Time Turners." Grant watched as she rifled through the pages he had just handed her, making a mental note to record in his log her obsession with the research.

The Minister would not be happy with the decline of one his best minds.

Hermione barely looked up from her desk when the private Floo network roared to life. Only one person came to visit her at work anymore. Ron always stopped by, always wanted to see how she was doing. His constant visitations were friendly enough and kept Hermione aware that there were other people outside in the world, but at times she found herself wishing he would just let her work in peace.

"Hello Hermione." He dropped a polite peck to her temple and she hummed a greeting in response, still furiously writing her research. "How've you been?"

"Wonderful!" She turned from her work for a second to smile at him in a gesture they both knew to be obscenely fake. "Work has been hectic, as usual, but we're so close to cracking this one report and then I can get started on some of the real stuff, like the missing Time Turners."

"The missing Time Turners?" Ron's face screwed up in a question as he tried to figure out what she was talking about.

"Yes! The dozens that were lifted from the shelves a few months ago, you remember?" Hermione stuffed a few pieces of parchment into a book as a place holder and then opened another thick text.

"Hermione, that case was solved weeks back."

"No it wasn't. Kingsley specifically asked me to do this for him, he wouldn't have me wasting my time on something if it wasn't important." Hermione argued, fingers pushing her hair behind her ears so she could hear the clock better. Time. Time was always moving. "I'm sorry I can't chat longer, Ron, but I have so much work to do."

"Hermione…"

"It was lovely to see you. Tell Leanne I said hello, will you?" Hermione looked up over her shoulder at Ron, whose expression was half pitying and half worried.

"Yeah. Of course I will." Ron sighed heavily and offered her a weak smile before bending at the waist and kissing her forehead. "Take care of yourself, please."

"You too." Hermione was already buried deep in the second book, nose nearly touching the place where the pages met as her other hand flew unwatched across a blank sheet of parchment, tiny letters smudged across the surface. Ron turned away from her desk, meeting the hard stare of Hermione's partner. The man beckoned to him and the red headed man answered the call.

"I feel it is time you should know what is really going on." Ron found himself sitting across the desk from this other man, the one who spent every day buried away in the secret research department with Hermione. "Hermione is not well. The Minister knows that Potter's death took a heavy toll on her-"

"On all of us." Ron growled, his knuckles cracking as he balled his fists. He didn't like talking about Hermione as if she was no longer in the room. He cast a glance over his shoulder and wasn't surprised to find that the woman had not stopped in her frantic scribbling.

"As I was saying, the toll that Potter's abrupt end had on Hermione has manifested in her work. At first her work was still impeccable, but there were some minor discrepancies like looping words or repeated sentences that had never been seen before in her work. And then the decline started. Every time something referenced Potter, whether it was his name or a battle or some place that he frequented, she had a breakdown. She still has them, if I'm not careful enough to screen the books that come through here." Grant stopped and fidgeted with the pen laying in the ink well. "The Minister has requested that she be assigned mock cases."

"So you're all lying to her?" Ron waited for the anger to rise in his chest, but nothing came.

"Not lying. Protecting. If she works these cases, if she feels she is doing something important for the Minister, then she is content."

"But she…" Ron faded off in his comment as he watched Hermione mutter to herself as she checked and rechecked the textbook beneath her fingertips. "She is…"

"She is not well."

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Please let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Beginning some of the backstory with a couple of the characters. Hope you enjoy the next few chapters!

* * *

"_Why did you come here?"_

_ "I've already told you. Draco asked me to."_

_ "So you just abandoned your family and came with him?"_

_ "You make it sound so horrid, Potter. I didn't abandon my family. I made a decision. My family has nothing to do with my decision, it is my own decision and mine alone." Pansy Parkinson harrumphed in finality and crossed her arms over her chest, staring intently at the dark haired boy across from her. Harry Potter stared back, hands laced carefully in his lap as he looked at the girl._

_ "So why did you come?"_

_ "Because I'm tired, Potter." She finally sighed, her shoulders relaxing as the tension flew from her body. "I am exhausted. Every day I get out of bed and put on this…this mask, this utter lie about who I am and I can't do it anymore. I'm not an evil person. I don't like many people, sure, but I'm not evil. I don't want to do wrong, but I don't know how to do right." Pansy ran a hand over her face as if she was trying to physically wipe away her tired expression. _

_ "The others don't want you or Malfoy to stay."_

_ "Then throw us out." Pansy slumped even further down in the chair. Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. "I don't really give a damn what you do, Potter, I just want this all to be over with."_

_ "We all do."_

* * *

Pansy shook herself from her daydream, blinking a few times against the rays of sunlight streaming in through the large windows in her study. Damian had been put down for a nap earlier and the mansion had gone disturbingly quiet. Charles was tending to the odds and ends around the manor and Draco had yet to stop by for his afternoon visit. She repositioned herself on the chaise lounge, waving a hand at the curtains until they shaded most of the light from the window. With a relaxed exhalation, she allowed herself to drift back into a daydream.

* * *

_It was nearly midwinter, the cold outside seeping into the Order's headquarters through the thin walls of Grimmauld Place. They had all been locked away inside the dark dwelling for what seemed like months. Potter and Weasley had nearly gotten themselves murdered on their last outing to Hogwarts. Pansy had been one of the few people still awake for their return. She and Draco had been sitting in the kitchen, keeping odd hours just to stay away from most of the Order, when the loud bang and sudden shouting began filling the house._

_ "Someone wake Molly, NOW!"_

_ "For Merlin's sake get me a towel!"_

_ "I need Dittany, anything we can find!"_

_Pansy found herself suddenly squashed between Molly Weasley and her daughter, one hand pressed hard into Harry Potter's left thigh to stem some of the spurting blood while Molly poured liberal amounts of Dittany over the boy. Ginny was paler than usual as she tried to set the obviously broken bone in Harry's right arm. Pansy chanced a look over her shoulder to see Draco sitting upright on the floor, a hysterical Hermione Granger held tight against his chest as the girl struggled to get to Ron Weasley's side. The red head was gushing what seemed like gallons of blood across the floor from a nasty wound on his temple while Luna Lovegood frantically worked over the rest of his extensive injuries._

_ "Hold tight girls, he's going to squirm on this one." Molly said as she shoved a bottle of SkeleGro into Harry's mouth, distracting him with the potion before she grabbed his broken arm and snapped the bones back into their proper places. _

_If it hadn't been for the potion in his mouth, Pansy was sure he would have shattered her eardrums._

* * *

_Pansy knocked timidly on the door that stood between her and her task for the morning. Molly had asked that Pansy be the one to take Harry his breakfast, as the matron was still busy cooking, Ginny was showering, Draco was still asleep, Hermione under the influence of a heavy sedative, and Luna was still tending to Ron's head injury._

_ "Come in." Harry's voice, much weaker than normal, floated under the small crack between the door and the floorboards. She pushed the door open and brought in the tray of oatmeal and hot milk. _

_ "Morning." She mumbled the greeting in a soft voice as she set the tray on the table beside the bed. She turned to leave when his hand landed on her arm._

_ "How's Ron?" Harry had to swallow against the dryness in his throat as he waited for the answer. Pansy opened her mouth to reply and then shut it, looking at the floor. Finally she settled on what to say and let him have the truth._

_ "Molly thinks his skull might have been cracked, and he had a massive gash from the back of his neck to the crown of his head. He lost a lot of blood. Lovegood spent most of the night watching him." Pansy observed while Harry's face contorted into several different emotions during her small explanation. "He's still alive, Potter."_

_ "Barely." Harry muttered. "It's my fault. I rushed in. He followed me, like he always has."_

_ "It's not your fault." Pansy mentally swore at herself. She was meant to bring the boy breakfast, not be his bloody therapist._

_ "It kind of is, actually, at the end of the day. When you stop and think about it, this is all my fault."_

_ "It'll be alright, Potter." _

_They both looked at her hand as it rested on top of his for a moment._

* * *

_ "Where's Potter?" Pansy found herself asking weeks later as she joined Granger and Weasley at the table. Weasley wiped some crumbs from his mouth and jerked his head towards the hallway._

_ "Tree room, again." Weasley took another huge bite of the biscuits on his plate. Granger rolled her eyes._

_ "He's been looking at the black hole on the wall where Sirius used to be. He spends a lot of his time doing that these days. Personally I think it might be good for him, in a way. Makes him feel closer to Sirius, I suppose." Granger gave her own answer and Pansy nodded, grabbing an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table and crunching into it. "How're you and Mal…Draco doing?"_

_ "You can call him Malfoy, it doesn't hurt his feelings." Pansy chuckled at Granger's attempt to be overly civil. "We're fine. Draco's not quite as open to the idea of spending time with you all, just yet, but he will be."_

_ "I figured as much." Granger handed her plate to Weasley as he stood to place the dishes in the sink. Granger watched him for a moment and turned to Pansy with a smile, her voice lowered as Weasley walked away. "Of course, I've noticed he tends to show up to meetings whenever Ginny is present."_

_ "I'll be sure to inquire about that." Pansy said crisply, taking another bite of her apple. She rose from the chair, nodding a goodbye to Granger before walking down the hall. She had every intention of continuing on to her room but surprised herself when she stopped in the doorway of the tree room, as Weasley had called it._

_Harry was seated on the floor, staring up at the charred spot on the tapestry where Sirius' face should have been. Pansy quietly entered the room, watching the boy as he ran his fingers over the woven threads. _

_ "Do you mind if I join you?" She asked as she lowered her body to the floor. Harry shook his head without looking at her. She sat beside him, their knees barely touching. Silence cloaked the room and the two sat together for what seemed like hours. At long last Harry let out a heavy sigh and faced Pansy._

_ "Thank you." He said levelly. She frowned, her head tilting. "For not asking a million questions and simply sitting here."_

_This time it was his hand that sought out hers, his fingers curling around hers in gratitude._

* * *

_ "Mind some company?" Harry called up to Pansy as she sat perched on the edge of the balcony railing, one leg dangling dangerously over the side. She smiled and waved him up. He finished crawling through the bedroom window and came to stand beside her, his elbows resting on the thin railing as he looked out into the night. "You doing okay?"_

_ "I'm doing fine. Just thinking. Draco has been throwing himself at every available mission and Molly claims I'm necessary around the house so…" She trailed off, a sigh ending her sentence. Harry nodded slowly. _

_ "I think a lot of the Order likes having you around." Harry admitted. "Like the other day when you and Hermione had a good go at Ron."_

_ "Well, picking on the Weasley pack has always been a favorite pastime." Pansy giggled while Harry lowered his head to his chest in a short laugh._

_ "I mean it." He shuffled his feet awkwardly and cleared his throat. "I like having you around. You don't ask a thousand questions like Hermione or Ginny. You don't constantly check in on me like Ron, but when you do it's always…in your own way. It's like you care, or you want to, but you're not forceful about it."_

_ "Can't have you getting too used to me just yet, Potter." _

_ "What if I wanted to?" His question was a bold counter to her play and she stopped her laugh short, her face slackening as she stared at him._

_He left her, shocked, on the balcony railing, her cheek burning in the place where his lips had brushed against her skin._

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AN: Please let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **I was on a roll this evening! Please let me know what you think!

* * *

_Those fingers were back. Fingers, like hot iron stakes driving into her skin, leaving marks across her shoulders and her neck and her back, streaking trails over the backs of her thighs and along her sides. Fingers so hot she could have sworn they were fashioned by Hades himself. They pulled at her hair, tortured her face in the most sensual way possible, assaulted the edges of her lips in a teasing dance that had her whimpering for more, had her leaning in with a gasp and an expectation and-_

_ "Say it." A demand, cold and measured and so perfectly timed. Those fingers were ruining her, touching, teasing, torturing, tantalizing every last one of her nerves until she felt she could not possibly take a single second more. "Say it!"_

_ "I need you." Her admission freed them both and the mouth that laid claim to hers was just as frantic as her heartbeat._

* * *

Ginny startled herself awake as the bottle in her grip teetered, her snoozing at the table causing her to lose her balance. The giggling in the background let her know that her sons were still playing nicely in the parlor, something for which she was very grateful. She slid the bottle away from herself and leaned back in the chair, trying to clear her head from both the daydream and the alcohol. After a few minutes she stood, collecting the bottle and throwing it with determination into the trash bin. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and placed her hands on her hips, facing the garden with a smile.

Two hours later Ginny emerged from the garden, dirt smeared across her forehead from repeatedly wiping her brow of sweat. The boys had joined her earlier in the afternoon, delighted to find their mother playing in the soil like a young child. Their efforts at weeding, however, soon proved more destructive than productive and Ginny had 'banished' them to the far corner of the courtyard where they could pull whatever plant growth their small hearts desired.

"Go on and get cleaned up for dinner." Ginny ushered her sons into the kitchen, where the two immediately set about trying to see which of them could soak the other first with the faucet. She allowed herself a light chuckle before she intervened, both boys beaming up at her as she helped them lather up and rinse off. Dinner was started with a flick of her wrists and soon the three were sitting down together for a meal.

"Mummy, today was nice." James announced as he shoveled the last bit of food into his mouth. Ginny was positive James had inherited everything looks-wise from Harry, but his attitude and appetite were completely Weasley. Albus, on the other hand, had neatly divided his plate into the food he wanted to eat and the food he was choosing to forgo. James took full advantage and reached across his brother's plate to help himself.

"Yes it was darling." Ginny agreed, sipping on the glass of water she had poured for herself.

"I want to play in the garden again!" Albus said decidedly, as if his plans for the following day were set in stone. Ginny grinned.

"I think we can manage that."

* * *

Ginny waved her hand at the lantern on the bedside table, the flame lowering until it emitted the softest of glows throughout the room. James and Albus were both properly tucked in, their tiny snores rattling around the room they shared in the most precious manner. Ginny spent a solid minute or two simply staring at her sons, admiring each of them as they slept peacefully. She finally turned and closed the door, her feet carrying her back to the kitchen so she could finish cleaning up from dinner. She turned the sink on and stacked the plates next to the basin, carefully washing each one methodically. Every now and then her eyes would turn towards the shelf and she would start a lecture in her head.

The sixth time her eyes strayed she found herself uncorking the bottle and taking a liberal swig.

* * *

_She knew it was him again, he was the only one who would bother coming up here at this time of night. She didn't mind him, but she did wish he would at least announce himself instead of sneaking up on her every time._

_ "I know you're there." She finally blew his cover and she heard the ghost of a laugh coming from the shadows. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the moonlight reflecting from the halo of nearly white hair, his trademark trait outing his cover. "You can just come out here and say hello like a normal person."_

_ "Which would give me none of the pleasure I get seeing you be so jumpy." Draco Malfoy drawled smoothly as he stepped out onto the rooftop. Ginny scowled at him and hugged her knees tighter to her chest. "Why are you out here again?"_

_ "Why do you think?" She deepened her already sizeable frown. Draco came to sit on the deck beside her, although his version of sitting was more like lounging than anything. He was always so poised. _

_ "Ah, again?"_

_ "Of course! Mum doesn't get that I'm old enough to go and fight with everyone else! I can do the same spells, I've even given a Dark curse a good go." She turned to him, panicked. "Don't tell anyone about that though."_

_ "Right." Draco nodded. "Like I would tell anyone I'm sitting up here with you having moonlit conversations on a nearly nightly basis."_

_ "You can take your sarcasm and shove it, Malfoy." Ginny snarled. Again she gathered her knees closer to herself. His hand curled around her right arm gently._

_ "I meant it as your secret is safe, Ginevra."_

* * *

_ "They left again! Without telling me! How can they keep doing this to me?" Ginny was on the verge of sobbing as she burst into Draco's room one evening, interrupting the blond as he was reading. He put down the book and beckoned the borderline hysterical girl over. She immediately sat on the edge of the bed, close enough for her hip to knock into his, and unleashed her emotions on Draco. "I don't understand why they treat me like a child! I'm not a baby anymore, I'm a grown woman! I'm nearly nineteen! I can fight just as well as the rest of them and they know it! Mum won't even let me talk to Harry or Ron alone because she thinks they'll tell me where they're going. Hermione hasn't spoken to me in days! Why doesn't anyone trust me?"_

_ "I trust you." _

_ "You're going with them." Ginny said blandly as she stood in the doorway to Draco's room, watching as he laced up the protective gear on his shoulders and down his arms. He nodded curtly, keeping his eyes away from her on purpose. She fought the ragged breath that hitched in her throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

_ "Because I didn't want to have to go through this with you." He replied shortly, tugging on a pair of gloves that seemed to be a size too small for him. Ginny let out a noise of frustration and stomped her foot. "Precisely."_

_ "This isn't fair! If they're going to let you fight they may as well let me go too!"_

_ "And what is that supposed to mean?" He rounded on her quickly, hair swinging into his face as he crossed the room. "That I'm not worthy of fighting?"_

_ "No, I-"_

_ "That I can't go and fight because I wasn't on this side to begin with?"_

_ "No! That isn't what-"_

_ "That I don't have people that I care about and want to see survive? That I don't want to do my part and put in my fair share-"_

_ "So do I! That's exactly why!" Ginny stomped her foot again and reached up to pull at her hair, aggravated. Draco grabbed her wrists in both of his hands and brought her arms down. "You talked to Harry, didn't you? You asked him to let you come along."_

_ "It took a lot of convincing on your brother's part, but eventually Potter saw the logic in my explanation." Draco released her wrists and went back to putting on his gear. Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "Don't worry."_

_ "About?"_

_ "Me, of course." Draco said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He pulled on the other glove after rechecking all of his laces and faced her again. "I'll keep an eye on Potter and your brother too."_

_Ginny barely had time to register that he was hugging her and by the time her brain kicked in to gear, the door was swinging closed behind him._

* * *

_The clock ticked each minute by slower than the previous one, Ginny was sure of that much as she watched the mechanical device work. They had been gone for seven hours, forty nine minutes, and twenty two seconds. She had given up on doing any of the chores her mother had set out for her. She hadn't even bothered with dinner. All she cared about at the moment was the return of the mission party._

_Nine hours, sixteen minutes, and forty four seconds._

_Eleven hours, fifty two minutes, and three seconds._

_The door to Grimmauld Place exploded open after fifteen hours, one minute, and seventeen seconds. Hermione and Ron were the first ones through the door, each one of them replying on the other equally for support. Neville struggled keep himself upright by holding onto a wall and Angelina was slung over George's shoulder, unconscious. Ginny nearly tripped over herself as she climbed a few stairs, trying to get a better look at the small crowd below. It would be easier to spot him from up here anyway, with that hair. _

_ "I'm alright, in case you were wondering." She jumped when his voice echoed right in her ear, but she recovered gracefully and launched herself at the blond boy to return the embrace she had left one sided earlier that day._

* * *

AN: Please let me know what you think! Can't wait to hear from you all!


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **So sorry for the delay in between the last chapter and this one! I had a few troubles at work but the good news is that I am now working on a much less demanding schedule and will be around for more regular updates, as long as my muse sticks around! Thank you to everyone who has been following and patiently waiting, and a very big thank you to all who have reviewed! I appreciate the feedback!

* * *

_"I can feel you watching me, you know." Her words were designed to make him embarrassed, but he felt nothing inside. He had been feeling nothing inside for as long as he could remember, years upon years of emptiness stayed coiled beneath his porcelain exterior. "You think you're so smart, so clever. You think you've finally saved yourself, do you? You haven't. You've brought us nothing but trouble. You're another mouth to feed, another head to count, another life to sustain. You should have stayed on the other side."_

_ "Perhaps then I could have watched you die with a smile on my face."_

* * *

The lightning flashed suddenly, without a roll of thunder as a warning, and Draco Malfoy was jolted from his deep thoughts as he sat alone in his office. His hand, curled neatly beneath his chin, slowly unfolded so he could stretch his fingers across the desktop to toy with the paperweight he had charmed to project an image of his son's room above the desk. As of now Scorpius was still fast asleep, undisturbed by the storm that was collecting over the Malfoy property. The boy had been miserable for the last few weeks without his mother, even though he hadn't seen the woman in over a year. He knew she was gone but it still broke Draco's heart every time Scorpius asked for his mother, or to be let in to her study, or to hold her favorite book.

Lightning illuminated the office again and Draco sighed, staring at the projection on his desk. The boy slept on, shockingly blond curls feathered around his face as soft snores escaped from tiny lips.

* * *

_"You snore, did you know?" She was taunting him again. "That is, when you aren't busy crying in your sleep or begging like a child for your mother. I can hear it, you know, from clear down the hall. I know it's you. Only you can sound that completely pathetic."_

_ "Are you quite finished insulting me for the day?" He sighed, bored with her tactics. She narrowed her eyes at him and spun on her heel, clearly perturbed by his lack of response. Draco watched her leave, her red hair swinging violently with each step. This was their daily routine. He would wake, dress, and go down to the kitchen, greeted by her sneer and snide remarks. She would snap at him, insult him, and then wait for a response._

_It took near a fortnight for his patience to wane and his anger to boil over._

_ "Ah, lovely. I get to have breakfast yet again with the turncoat." She announced her arrival in the small kitchen with a well delivered blow. He looked down into the cup of tea he had been cradling for almost ten minutes and let out a long breath. "Too bad it's only us in here, I'd love to have been graced with your shadow's presence as well. Honestly, how the two of you ever wound up here and why the Order decided to let you-"_

_ "Enough." He had risen from his seat without fully realizing what he was doing. She stood now, wide eyed, stuck between him and the corner of the kitchen counter, where she had been pulling down a cup for her own tea. He towered over her, making it too easy to look down his nose at her as he once had in school. "That is enough, Ginevra, of your incessant taunting, devilish attempts to irk me. Do not make the mistake of provoking my temper, little girl, because it may just be the last thing you damn well do. Do not make me hurt you because I will, I swear to you I will." The end of his wand was emitting sparks, red flares that signaled his matching anger. She was petrified, a mug clutched in her hands as she backed herself further into the tight corner. He was nearly touching her toes with his own, his entire being throbbing with heated malice that had been packed away for weeks. _

_ "You wouldn't dare." Ginny Weasley swallowed thickly as the full weight of her situation crashed down on her shoulders. Turncoat or not, Draco Malfoy still bore the Dark Mark and was no doubt more skilled in the Dark Arts than she. The air in the room seemed to evaporate as he leaned down, his cheek barely grazing hers, cheekbone to cheekbone._

_ "Try me." He all but growled the words in her ear and then he was gone, footsteps silent as he walked down the hallway. He heard the mug shatter against the floor and the resounding thud of the girl's hands catching her body weight against the counter as shaky breaths echoed from the kitchen. _

_She chose her words more carefully around him from then on, guarded eyes following his every move inside the house._

* * *

_ "Get down!" His weight crashed into her side, knocking the two of them to the ground bodily. Her mane of red hair was tangled and most of it had fallen loose from the braid she had woven before leaving headquarters. Strands of the fiery mess got caught in his mouth as he tried to extract himself from her, catching his breath with a pained gasp. _

_ "Malfoy!" She wheezed up at him from the ground, splayed on her back with a shocked expression still dancing over her features. Draco scrambled to the side and finally to his feet, wand pointing with a flourish at the approaching enemies. Ash floated to the ground as a result of his explosion and Ginny pushed herself up onto her elbows._

_ "Move it. I won't save your life again." He offered his hand to the girl and with a wince, she accepted the help and rose to her feet. Her gratitude shone for a moment in her eyes before they flashed darkly._

* * *

Draco woke with a violent start, instantly grabbing the wand on his bedside table to arm himself. His heart pounded deep thumps in his ears, his pulse finally slowing to normal as he pushed a hand up into his hair. The hand fell to his mouth, wiping across his lips to keep the urge to retch at bay. He threw back the heavy sheets and crossed the bedroom, standing in front of the dark doors that led onto the attached balcony. He flicked his wand at the paperweight on the desk behind him, the projection of Scorpius gently illuminating his quarters. Another short twist of his wrist cut the light of the picture from his room, allowing the darkness to once again envelop Malfoy Manor.

* * *

_"Draco!" The use of his first name caught him off guard and he turned in time to see the brilliant green spell aimed directly at him. A haphazardly thrown Shield Charm erupted from his wand and he dropped to a knee. The curse flew above his head, his hair whipping in the draft it created as it passed over him. The breath he had been holding escaped past his lips in a relieved sigh, another short draw of air catching in his throat as a flash of red darted by. Blindly he followed, wand dancing in deadly intricate patterns through the air as he followed Ginny through the battle. Twice they ended up side by side, she ducking under his arm to fire a spell, he using his height to aim clear over her head. _

_ "You're not a bad shot." He complimented much later in the week, looking at her over the rising steam from his cup of tea. Ginny managed a small smile through her split lip and bruised right cheek, results of a fall in an earlier battle._

_ "You're not too horrible either." She finally conceded, fixing her own mug of tea and joining him at the small kitchen table. "Do you mind?"_

_ "Please." He nodded and slid the small sugar bowl over to her. She promptly dumped half of it into her cup and made a noise of contentment. "And thank you."_

_ "For?" She didn't look up from her drink, inhaling the trail of vapor as it swirled in the air._

_ "Saving my life. If you hadn't called my name, I-"_

_ "I figured it was a better option than tackling you." _

_They shared a smile that soon blossomed into hushed chuckles and whispered recounts of different battles._

* * *

_ "I can't believe this!" Ginny stomped her foot angrily as she watched Draco lace his armor. "It wasn't even from fighting, I tripped and fell and now Mum is being ridiculous!"_

_ "She's doing it for your own wellbeing."_

_ "But you broke your leg not four weeks ago and they sent you right back in!" She was nearly howling now, desperate to rejoin the effort. Draco sighed and tossed his head, his hair swinging from his eyes._

_ "Honestly I think that's because Potter secretly hopes I'll die off in a fight and then he'll be rid of me." Draco muttered sarcastically. Ginny made an affronted noise and scowled. "It'll be better for you to stay."_

_ "Don't tell me you think they're right! You know I can fight well, we've fought right beside each other and-"_

_ "I'm not saying a damn thing about your dueling skills, Red, I know you happen to have marvelous aim and a nasty ability to sense impending attacks. What I am saying is that there are people who care about you and obviously know what kind of damage could be done to the morale if you were to be gravely injured." Draco finished tying the knot of his boots and stood, running a hand through his hair. "Just trust me, please?"_

_ "It's not fair!" Her petulance shone through as she wailed and again stomped her foot. Draco couldn't help the smile that grew on his face at her annoyance. He crossed the room, his hand rising to brush back a few of the rebellious tendrils of hair that had freed themselves from their braided prison._

_ "I know it isn't." The words were mumbled against her forehead and her hands settled easily on his chest, resting against the reinforced armor plates. "Don't wait up." He gave her thick braid a small tug, kissed the crease between her eyebrows, and swiftly left the room._

* * *

**AN:** Please let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: **For those of you who have patiently waited for some Ron/Hermione action, this chapter and the next should be a delight! Thanks for all the continued support and I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

_ "Good morning beautiful." He mumbled the words into her hair, his pleasantries disappearing into the thick tumble of curls she was famous for. A warm giggle escaped from between her lips._

_ "You must've hit your head harder than we originally thought." She giggled again, a reflex of the way his arms wound tightly around her midsection and hugged her ever so close._

_ "Shut up." He buried his face even further in her hair, his nose rubbing along the back of her neck. She shivered and huddled deeper into his embrace._

* * *

Hermione Granger stared pensively at the dark tea sitting inside the mug she held between her hands. Her memories had been replaying in the forefront of her mind all too often, and coupled with Ron's frequent visits to her office, she had been seriously wondering where things had gone haywire. They had been the Wizarding World's golden couple, smiles glittering across front pages of the Daily Prophet for months. Harry had been more than happy to take a backseat to their fame at the time, enjoying the limelight as he dashed across the United Kingdom in search of errant Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers.

A soft meow from the floor let Hermione know she had been sitting still for too long, brilliant green eyes gazing at her expectantly. Crookshanks had passed years ago, living an exceptionally long life even for a Kneazle, and she had gone out and gotten herself a long haired kitten.

* * *

_"I'm not entirely sure it doesn't have mange, or at the very least an infestation of fleas." Ron turned his nose up at the meowing kitten Hermione had shoved in his face. "Look at it, Hermione, the thing is missing a whisker or two for certain."_

_ "Ronald." Hermione chided lightly, turning her attention to the midnight colored kitten and cooing at it softly. "He's a darling and I love him."_

_ "I've been replaced by a fur covered disease machine!" Ron pretended to wail and sank back against the cushions of the couch, a smile covering his face as Hermione curled up beside him. His arm fell almost naturally around her shoulders. "So what's the bugger's name then, just to make sure I get it right whenever I have to curse at him?"_

_ "Banquo." Hermione replied immediately. "I think it suits him."_

_ "You couldn't have picked a normal name? Stripes? Fluffy?"_

_ "I'd rather not name my cat after a three headed dog, Ron." Hermione rubbed her nose against the kitten's, the creature's loud purrs soon filling the quiet room. "I think he's perfect."_

_ "If it's what makes you happy, darling." Ron kissed her temple and begrudgingly scratched behind Banquo's left ear._

* * *

"Yes, yes, I'll feed you now." Hermione muttered to the now fully grown Banquo. The cat, larger and longer than Crookshanks had been, wound himself dangerously through her ankles, his one off kilter ear twitching in anticipation. Hermione smiled to herself as she watched the way that ear moved, remembering the way Ron had always teased her about the broken cat she had adopted. A small bowl of kibble was dropped to the floor and Banquo set about eating with a few thankful grumbles.

Hours later Hermione again found herself staring blankly at the now cold tea in her grasp. She had lost track of time, her brain now clicking in to gear to berate herself for wasting such a precious asset. She grabbed a cloak, twisted it around her shoulders, petted Banquo as he rested on the kitchen counter, and Apparated from her flat.

* * *

_"You'll run a hole in that page if you pass your finger over it one more time." Ron teased as he entered the study where Hermione had set up camp in Grimmauld Place. She chuckled and finished writing down her latest findings before turning to the redheaded boy. "You can't possibly still be looking up information."_

_ "It'll be useful for Harry, once he gets back, to know Riddle's usual hangouts and frequent visiting places." She answered smartly. "Draco has been helping me sometimes, he's actually very clever."_

_ "Yes, I suppose all he has to do is tell you where he's been going for the last few years." Ron grumbled, dropping none too elegantly into an armchair across from the desk she was working at. She narrowed her eyes at him._

_ "He's not all bad, Ron."_

_ "And not all good either." _

_ "He saved Ginny's life two weeks ago!"_

_ "But nearly got Harry killed not two days after that!"_

_ "And he broke his leg in the process, I think it's more than fair to say you can lighten up on him!"_

_ "Why are you so damn defensive about him anyway?" Ron asked in a growl. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you actually liked the git."_

_ "Ronald." Hermione sighed in exasperation and shook her head. "He needs someone, and if the only person willing to reach out to him in this house is me, then I will. And if you're going to give me grief then you may as well start bothering Harry about exactly how much time he's been spending with Pansy." She snapped the book shut and stomped out of the study, furious._

_ "Hermione!" Ron called after and his footsteps pounded down the hall. His hand went around her arm carefully, tugging her back into a tight hug. "I'm sorry. I'm just…" He sighed and pushed back on her shoulders. "I'm a jealous ass."_

_ "I know." She smiled when he brushed a kiss across her forehead, his apology ringing in her ears._

* * *

_"Hermione?" She looked up from the book in her lap to see Ron, his eye still bruised from the previous day's battle. "Are you busy?"_

_ "Just reading." She closed the book and nodded for him to enter the room. "Do you need something?"_

_ "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment." He shuffled into her bedroom nervously, his hands folded behind his back as he tried to lift his eyes to look at her. She grinned._

_ "Of course!" She moved to the edge of the bed, her hands on either side of her legs as Ron toyed with the tassels of the rim on her lamp. _

_ "Well, see, I was thinking. And after yesterday, when we went back to Hogwarts, it just got to me a little and I, well, I'm horribly bad at this but…" He let out a long breath of air and brought his hands together in front of his body. "You're a brilliant fighter, Hermione. And wicked smart. You're one of my best friends and I don't…I don't want to bloody fuck this all up but damned if I'm not doing a fantastic job of that-"_

_ "Ron." Hermione interrupted him gently and stood from the bed, moving until she was directly before him. "Yes."_

_ "But how did-"_

_ "Because I've wanted to be your girlfriend for quite some time." She lifted up onto her toes and pressed a shy kiss to his mouth, so unlike the one they had shared months earlier in the Chamber of Secrets._

* * *

_ "Ron, get down!" She was screaming at him from across the battlefield, curses lighting the dark night sky with brilliant shades of green, red, and white. Harry had disappeared hours ago, chasing after Rodolphus Lestrange in a fit of rage after the man had shot a very well-aimed Cruciatus at Neville. Ron blindly followed her order, dropping to the ground without second thought as he covered his head. The wall that had exploded above him crumbled to the earth, Hermione's Shield Charm protecting the redhead from any serious damage. He shot her a brief look of gratitude before climbing back to his feet and running away from her. Her heart pounded in her ears and she couldn't help herself from following, covering his back as he darted through the wreckage. She didn't know what he was trying to get to, all she knew was that she needed to follow him. Lucky for him she was, otherwise he would have been taken out several times over for his lack of backwards attention. _

_After chasing him for several minutes, dodging too many spells and firing not enough of her own, she lost track of exactly where Ron had gone. A feeling of panic set in around her shoulders as she scanned the battlefield around her, watching as members of the Order attempted to detain the straggling Death Eaters. She considered shouting his name in an effort to find him, her mind reeling to try and figure out what to do. _

_ "Hermione!" His shout of warning came a second too late and the Stunner hit her directly in the middle of her stomach, knocking her flat onto her back. All of the wind left her lungs as she hit the ground, her vision blurry against the rush of shocked tears. His growl of a curse had the Death Eater that had hit her screaming in agony for nearly a minute before he dropped lifeless to the ground. "Shit, Hermione, are you alright?" Ron was at her side, his hands feeling for any immediate injury that he could sense._

_ "Fine." She gasped the word as air started to refill her lungs. "I'm fine."_

_ "I'm so sorry!" He gathered her up into his arms and together they stood, his lips peppering her face with quick and feathery kisses. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to and-"_

_ "Ron it's fine! We're in the middle of a war!" She couldn't help but laugh and left him standing there after dropping a kiss of her own onto his bottom lip._

* * *

**AN:** Please let me know what you think!


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